Daily News

[Arty]

Jonathan Sawyer was a man who feared nothing but failure. Currently, he was on the verge of it. "Baker said he'd have the paperwork done by NOON. Do you realize what time it is? No. I don't care. If he can't keep up then I don't want him -- I don't care how good he is. If there's a first time, then there will be a second time!" He was a man who hated failure in others, but more so in himself. He especially hated if other people were the cause of his failure. A low growl issued from his throat, "Nessa. He lost me that client. Its unforgivable."

Snapping his mobile phone shut, he clenched it in his fist. Jon controlled himself. He could've easily snap, crackle and popped that mobile into next week. As it was, he heard a clicking noise and promptly settled the phone in front of him. A thin white line had appeared in the silver of the mobile, foretelling a crack to be. Rubbing his lips with his fist, he sighed. It was time for a cigarette break.

Knowing himself, he knew that because he'd woken up terribly cheerful, he'd eventually have some disappointment that would bring his mood a full one-eighty from the original brightness. The office hadn't seemed nearly as relaxed as usual, and Jon had nearly had an aneurysm when he'd heard the intern, who was supposed to be reading through a contract and finding loopholes or possible ones, had called in sick. On the day the client was supposed to be holding this contract, loopholes easily highlighted by two o'clock. Called in sick. Excuses. It was just an excuse.

Standing, Jon reached into his desk drawer, rummaging until he found the item he wanted so entirely it hurt: a pack of wrinkled cigarettes. Beside it lay his "emergency drink", the silver flask was inviting and Jon only resisted its temptation for a minute. The cigarette pack was tucked into his sports jacket, the flask into neat black slacks.

As he left his mostly maroon and ebony office, he picked easily a cigarette from the pack and touched his lips to the end. Stepping outside the building, Jon glanced up at the big white letters, Sawyer, Esq. It was always reassuring to know one thing was on your side. Even if it was just some big white letters. A quick pat down found a lighter and the flame was held to the end, while Jon took a luscious first sip off the little cancer-stick. Who cared about cancer when you were practically immune anyway.

A soft billow of blue-white smoke drifted into the starry abyss above him. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. Like usual, he was here late, yelling at someone inefficient.

[volans]

Lucian had been watching this man for days. Sometimes with Alexei, but tonight he was alone. Alexei had falled right asleep and he'd looked too beautiful lying amongst the new blood red sheets Lucian had bought them on a whim for him to be awoken. As Lucian had guessed, They looked stunning against Alexei's skin, especially when the boy was asleep and his dark hair fanned the pillow an dhis lips were nearly the colour of the sheets and swollen from kissing.

There was no denying it, the boy was lovely. And Lucian was smitten.

He smiled, now, thinking about him, as he saw the man angrilly (always agrilly) leaving the building. This was exactly the kind of man lucian loved to feed on. He was on a power-trip, a work a holic, had no care for people's feelings, only their pocketbooks. He'd wine and dine wealthy customers only to drop them when they ceased to be profitable for him. He was a leach. The worst kind of scum. And tonight, he was to be dinner.

Lucian licked his lips lightly, waiting for him to be near a dark alley, before he walked easily up beside him, silver-tipped heels of his expensive boots clicking on the sidewalk. "Hello." he said softly, silvery eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Sawyer, yes?"

[Arty]

Sawyer, yes?

The words echoed, and so did those lovely expensive boots. His own stormy eyes took in the silver tips. A man could easily be judged by his shoes, Jon had heard once, likely from his father. If all instincts went well, then this person was well-endowed...financially. Jon licked his lips, as if to wipe away the tingle of the nicotine. A tingle at the edge of his aura hinted at something...preternatural, but Jon wasn't interested in finding out what that part was. It didn't matter. He'd probably served stranger clients.

"The same," Sawyer answered coolly after a minute. Nonchalantly, Jon flicked the cigarette, ashes falling like a dirty snow to the ground. Again the cigarette was raised to his lips, curls of smoke sneaking past his teeth as he spoke again, "Is there something I can do for you?"



((erg...short...))

[volans]

Lucian smirked, looking at this man. YEs. YEs he would feel very very nice when this was all over. He pulled a wad of money from a pocket, flashing big bills. He was goig to use this money to do soemthing nice for Alexei, he hadn't igured what, yet, but he'd gotten it off of last night unfortunate victim.

"I think, Sir." he said, counting the bills and then pressing them back into his frock pocket. "I think that you can be a very large help to me." he said, conviniently stopping just right in front of the dark alley, knowing that Jonathan Sawyer would stop as well. He'd do anything to have Lucian's money.

"I think that there is somehting that you can do for me, yes."